Too Late
by Reifujin Kudeju
Summary: Quatre comes to warm Wu Fei of a danger closing in on the pilots, but is it too late?


Disclaimer: I(Kurisu Furui) hold no legal rights over any of the latter mentioned characters. They are the sole properties of their respective owners. This work of fiction is not to be reproduced nor sold in any way, form, or fashion without written and signed consent from me(the author. The events in this story are completely fictional and any resemblance to any actual persons or events are completely unintentional.  
  
Title: Too Late Author: Kurisu Furui Genre/Series: Anime/Gundam Wing Rating: Web-14 Warning: This fanfiction contains Shounen-Ai(male/male relationships) and very brief blood Characters: Chang Wu Fei, Quatre Raberba Winner Pairings: 5x4(Wu Fei/Quatre)  
  
A a soft, cool summer night breeze swept through the open window of the near barren room, stirring the smoke from the peach incense laying inside the open mouth of the delicately and carefully carved marble dragon, placed exactly upon the center of a stone table, and the leaves of a small cherry blossom tree growing in a large porcelain pot. Besides that, a large blood red silken pillow, and the exquisite oriental paintings on the walls and sliding doors, the room was devoid of decoration or garnishment.  
  
A sudden rapid tapping that got quickly louder jerked the boy sitting upon the pillow from a deep reverie. There was a knock against the door. "Enter." called the boy reluctantly. The door was pushed aside with a klack as it snapped into place in a hollow in the wall. "Wu Fei!" The chinese boy raised his head, shifting his crossed legs as almond-shaped black eyes took in the figure standing before him.  
  
Quatre Raberba Winner. It had been over a year since the gundam boys had gone their seperate ways, and Quatre hadn't appeared to change much. His still had the same tousled blonde hair, bleached by the arabian sun, those aquamarine eyes that wouldn't have looked out of place on a puppy, small nose, soft pale lips always ready with a smile and smooth skin. He'd grown a bit heigth-wise, but then again, all of them had, assumed Wu Fei, as his eyes continued further down. Usually straight shoulders sagged slightly, giving the appearance the arabian boy had just exherted a fair amount of energy. Wu Fei suddenly noticed something odd. The boy was wearing a high-collar chinese-styled outfit, and black, at that. Quatre never wore black excepting the pilot's uniform all five of the gundam boys had worn, or usually red neither, which the outfit was trimmed with.  
  
The chinese boy noticed with a vague smirk the boy was fidgeting with the hem of the long sleeve. He usually was timid around Wu Fei. He rose and looked silently at the boy another lingering moment, then finally spoke. "I didn't expect you to show up." Quatre bowed, clasping his hands together. "I know, I'm sorry!" he turned quarter-way to reach out a pale hand to shut the door back. The sleeve shifted slightly as the arm moved back, revealing to Wu Fei a bandage around the other boy's wrist. As Quatre turned back to Wu Fei, he reached out on impulse, catching the arab's wrist. "What's this?" he asked.  
  
"That's why I'm here." answered Quatre, his voice soft and unsure. Wu Fei released his grip in surprise. "I came to warn you. Someone is targeting the gundam pilots according to their 'number.' Heero was shot once in the head. He's. . .h-he died. Duo twice, once in the stomach the other in the side. He's in a critical condition. Trowa three times, twice in the chest, once in the stomach. He's critical as well, but not. . not expected to make it." Quatre lowered his head, quivering slightly. Wu Fei was in shock. The perfect soldier, dead? The god of death, on the verge of pitching into his own domain, and the nameless soldier, considered dead?  
  
Through the confused and dazed fog settling quickly in on his mind, Wu Fei heard the small sobs of the arabian boy and he took a step foreward, and put a comforting arm around his shoulders, followed by the other arm as Quatre burst into bitter tears. Wu Fei rocked back and forth slowly where he stood, for the moment not worrying about those dead and dying, but only the living, the living here in his arms, needing his comfort, his protection. He let the boy weep, closing his eyes to prevent his own tears. After a few minutes, Wu Fei let his arms slip to Quatre's waist as the boys tears slowed, and questioned, "So they shot you four times?"  
  
Quatre slowly shook his head, rubbing one eye. He raised his hand in Wu Fei's sight. "They got me once in the wrist. And--" here the boy drew back enough to raise his hand to his collar to pull it aside. Wu Fei recoiled in shock. "One grazed my neck. They fired twice more but missed." He let the collar move back into place to rehide the painful-looking bandaged wound dangerously near his jugular vein. "When I learned Heero was dead. . .then after Duo was placed in ICU, followed by Trowa, I couldn't.. .couldn't figure out why. . .why I didn't die too. ." Quatre began to tremble again, raising a shaking hand to his lips as tears welled again in his once gentle and innocent, but now tortured and pained blue eyes.  
  
"Shhh, Quatre, don't think that." This time, Quatre fell into Wu Fei's arms with such readiness that both slid to their knees on the polished oakwood floor. Crying openly, Quatre looked up to the chinese boy, who tilted his head down to return the gaze, a strand of hair- commonly in a headache-inducingly tight ponytail-falling into his eyes and the arabian boy realized the other had let his hair grow a considerable amount and had it down today. "I didn't want you to have to go through the same I did. I don't want you to have these feelings I did, or worse, end up like Duo, or Trowa or . . .H-Heero." Wu Fei nodded. "I understand."  
  
Gently, he leant foreward, pulling Quatre's collar down and pressing a tender kiss to the wound. The boy gave a shaky gasp, then shuddered, looking at the chinese boy, wide-eyed, as though for some explanation. "I'll remember that. You should get some rest. Obviously you've had it too hard recently, and I highly doubt you've gotten much sleep. You mind sharing my bed?" Quatre blinked slightly, then shook his head slowly, as though uncertain of himself.  
  
Wu Fei stood, offering his hand to Quatre, who smiled weakly and took it, standing, only to nearly fall against Wu Fei. "Easy there!" chuckled the chinese boy, before leading the smaller boy down a long corrider, and into a rather nicely furnished room, the obvious centerpiece being the beautiful carved bed. Quatre blinked at it. "I know it's custom to have a roll out bed, but I much prefer this one. It was Mother's." Wu Fei smiled to Quatre, then slipped out of his white pants, stepping into pale blue silk ones. He unbuttoned his long white shirt, and let it simply fall off of his shoulders. He pulled a pair of red silk pants similiar to the ones he currently wore from a drawer and tossed them to the arab, who caught them, just looking at them. "Well? Change." Wu Fei rummaged briefly in a bedside table drawer before drawing out a box of matches, and striking one against the side then lighting a tall, white, partially-melted candle on the bedside. "I've lit it every night since peace has come around." he explained, flicking off the overhead light and allowing the small candle to dimly illuminate the room.  
  
A moment later, Quatre slowly lay down on the very edge of the bed. Wu Fei gave a slight chuckle. "I don't bite." he said softly. "Usually." answered Quatre jokingly. Wu Fei smiled in the dim, and blew out the candle, then rolled on his side towards Quatre. He closed his eyes. "Good night." The arabian boy blinked slowly, yawning, then nodding. He realized Wu Fei couldn't see him and answered. "G'night."  
  
In the morning, Wu Fei woke rather early and sat up, looking to the boy next to him, his eyes widening in shock. Laceration scars covered the gentle blonde's entire torso. Wu Fei ran one hand softly over one of the painful-looking scars, then drew his hand back, pulled the covers to Quatre's shoulders, and left the room silently.  
  
Quatre continued to sleep until noon, whereupon he literally lept out of the bed and hastily dressed, then moving quickly through the house to find Wu Fei. He was in the kitchen. "Wu Fei! I overslept, I'm sorry!" Wu Fei turned to Quatre, smiling cheerfully and giving a soft chuckle. "That's quite alright. You hungry?" Quatre fell silent, not expecting the question, then finally he nodded. "A little, yeah, thanks." Wu Fei nodded slightly. "So," he said, turning back to a pot of water he was boiling, "What are all those scars?" Quatre stiffened slightly, trying to speak, but only a tiny squeak escaping.  
  
Wu Fei turned slightly, his dark gaze falling upon the poor boy who began to shake, having to sit down in a chair. "Self-torture." he said finally. The chinese boy dropped his knife in shock. He knelt, picking it up. A drop of scarlet fell onto the counter as he straightened, and it was only then he realized the knife cut his hand. He hid the hand from Quatre, quickly wiping away the blood. "I thought maybe if I felt as much pain as Trowa or Duo, I wouldn't feel so guilty. Funny though, I. . didn't feel pain. I did the first time, but not after. It gave me a sort of rush, I guess. Something I hadn't felt in a long time. And I couldn't stop."  
  
"You got addicted to hurting yourself?" Wu Fei gripped the counter, the shock of the information making him reel. This perky, caring, cheerful seeming blonde was capable of such acts? "Yes." Quatre sighed softly. Wu Fei looked at the wide cut across his palm, then slowly closed his fist. "Stay here for a while, Quatre." Wu Fei said suddenly. "It's peaceful and nice here, not many people come around, and you can unwind, relax and--" "Become sane?" snarled Quatre, standing. "After what I've been through, there is no sane!"  
  
"No. Not become sane." answered Wu Fei, only appearing to keep his cool. If Quatre would have looked close, he'd be able to notice Wu Fei trembling at the unexpected outburst. "Sorry." the arab turned red and sat back down like an old man returning to his armchair, putting his elbow on the table and putting his head into his palm. "It's alright Quatre. I understand." He stopped behind the boy, resting his uninjured palm on his shoulder comfortingly. "It's alright." he whispered. Quatre sighed, and leant back against the boy slowly. "Wu. . .Wu Fei?"  
  
"Hmm?" Wu Fei looked down at the blonde, smiling gently. "I love you." the smile withered. He stayed silent, unable to answer for a moment, before finally whispering, "I love you too." Quatre turned to the chinese boy slowly, giving a weak smile. Wu Fei gave a stronger one, and kissed Quatre's forehead softly.  
  
The arabian stood, kissing him gently. "Wu Fei. . ." The boy shook his head and kissed the arabian's lips deeply, fingers winding through the pale hair. Quatre fell against the kiss, parting his lips willingly. Wu Fei slid his tongue past the boy's soft lips, exploring his mouth lightly, his eyes closed. When they broke apart a few moments later, Quatre looked at the chinese boy. "You. . .you've done this before." he murmured through gasps for air.  
  
"Yes." Quatre looked down. "Sally?" "Duo." The other sputtered slightly, staring at him. Wu Fei couldn't resist a light chuckle. "Sorry?" Quatre shook his head. "S'alright." he sat down again. "Water's boiling." The chinese boy turned. "Oops!" he rushed over, pulling a few cups of noodles from a glass jar and pouring them into the water.  
  
Quatre giggled. "Are you a good cook?" Wu Fei smirked. "When I'm not being distracted by certain cute blonde things." Quatre giggled. "Did you and Duo go. . all the way?" the other boy tilted his head, and he smiled. "Yes." the arabian nodded, as an indication to go on. "It was an odd releationship, considering most have one partner that's always dominant. Duo and I pretty much took turns, depending on what moods we were in." He chuckled drily, pushing through his herb cabinet.  
  
"Must have been nice." Wu Fei turned. "Not really. I was in love with him, but he felt more for Heero than myself. When he left me, it took me a while, but I finally realized that. It hurt like hell. That's one of the reasons I kept Nataku. I felt it was the only thing I had left." Quatre frowned. "You poor thing. . ." "Tch! Hearing that from you is really depressing, you know that?" Quatre blushed and grinned. "Sorry."  
  
"It's alright." he pressed his lips softly to Quatre's, and smiled. Quatre blushed and pulled away, looking down. "What's wrong?" "Nothing." The arab smiled convincingly as possible, which wasn't very reassuring at all. "Is it because I've been with someone else?" asked Wu Fei, returning to the stove to stir the noodles. The other boy nodded slowly. "But not for was reason you think. I'm too afraid I'll screw up." The chinese boy turned again. "I felt the same way with Duo. But it turned out quite alright."  
  
"I'm sorry." whispered Quatre. "Nothing to apologize for." Wu Fei blinked in surprise, then shrugged and smiled softly. "It's alright love." The arabian blushed at what he heard. The chinese boy doled out the noodles into two bowls, sitting beside him at the bar, pulling his stool up. "Hope it's alright. Bachelors are known for their horrible cooking." Quatre tasted it, then giggled. "It's delicious."  
  
"Ah! Wu Fei!" Quatre gasped softly as the chinese boy suckled his earlobe softly. Gentle hands pushed away Quatre's already unbuttoned shirt. "Wu Fei!" moaned the arabian boy once more, almost timidly. Wu Fei looked to the other, smiling. The arabian felt his face heat at the confident grin. He tried to smile back, but he wasn't sure if it worked or not. "I love you." whispered the chinese boy softly. "I. . .love you too, Wu Fei."  
  
Quatre moaned quietly as Wu Fei ran his tongue over the sensitive skin of his neck. He shivered, then whimpered softly. "Wu Fei. . ." the chinese boy kissed over his chest slowly. "Wu Fei. . .Wu Fei. ." Quatre suddenly pushed the other away. "Stoppit, Wu Fei!" The chinese boy sat up, a hurt look in his eyes. "What's wrong, Quatre? Am I hurting you?" Quatre shook his head. "No. . .not like that at least." "What do you mean?"  
  
"I was raped, Wu Fei, it's just bad memories. It's not you hurting me, it's the memories." "You're just more and more tortured every day, aren't you love?" Wu Fei began to pull away, but Quatre caught his arm, shaking his head quickly. "N-no, Wu Fei, please, don't leave! I still wanna try, j-just give me a minute. Please?" Wu Fei managed a meek smile. "Of course, Quatre."  
  
Wu Fei leant down again, and a soft whimper came from the other boy. He huffed and sat back up. "I can't do this, Quatre. It feels like I'm doing something wrong." he scooted off the bed, and stood. Quatre suddenly screamed. Wu Fei jerked around towards the window, where the arabian was staring, wide-eyed.  
  
The window crashed in with the first shot, which caught Wu Fei in the shoulder. In rapid succession, four other bullets struck him in the stomach, hip, and chest. Quatre cried out again, moving beside the fallen chinese boy. He repeated the other's name over and over as Wu Fei stared blankly at him, blood staining the plush beige carpet.  
  
"W-W-WU FEI!!!!!!!!"  
  
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That was thoroughly depressing! D R&R peoples, please. I might even do a second chapter! Bwaha, imagine the possibilites. XD The more reviews I get, the better the second chapter shall be! ^^- Whee. XD 


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